Neve.

And the snow falls down
Melts before it even hits the ground
And I'm standing here listening
To the sound of your hand washing back
And forth across my filthy heart
And I don't know if I should say "I'm sorry" or "thank you"
I try to speak but the tears choke the words
And I think I finally know what they mean when they talk about
joy.

(February. Mineral.)